Prophecy
by Blue Zombie
Summary: the words come true...
1. Chapter 1

_Are you talking to me or are you talking to Joey?_

_Aw, that's not fair!_

_Life's not fair. You're right Joey is better for you. This way you can kiss your potential goodbye, settle for some interesting little goth girl, your marks can drop, and one day you can take over the car lot!_

"They go into bargain basements, bargain bins, kid. It happens. One CD doesn't mean anything,"

Craig stared at Leo's stupid gold chain around his tan neck like some freak from the 70's. Stupid striped shirt, beard stubble. Craig ran his hand through his hair, making his bangs stick up.

"Yeah, Leo, so it's not at the top of the charts-"

"No, it isn't," He gave him that patented Leo stare, full of condescension. Just like how he looked at and talked to Ellie when they'd first met him. She couldn't drum and that was that. Leo wouldn't give her a chance. Same way his CD wasn't at the top of the charts. Leo would cut him loose.

"Yeah, well, can't I have another chance to-"

But Leo was already shaking his head.

"Sorry, kid, but this industry moves pretty fast. It's on to the next new thing,"

_The fist line of cocaine and he was pretty well hooked. He liked things that made him feel good, feel confidant, because he couldn't feel that way himself. And cocaine came before Manny and Ellie, before everything._

"What in the hell is the matter with you?" It was some random guy Craig didn't know, and he'd found this party through friends of friends and he was drinking at the kitchen table. Drinking always made him depressed.

"Nothing, except I got dropped from my label, and now…" There was no way to finish it.

"Bummer times, man. Listen, I got something that can make you feel better,"

Craig shrugged, got up and followed him into a back bedroom. He wanted to feel better. He couldn't feel worse.

He closed the door, and Craig noticed how scrawny the guy was, and how he couldn't tell his age just by looking at him. Maybe he was 19/20. Maybe 40. He pulled out a bag and a spoon and a lighter and Craig watched him cook up heroin. He knew it was heroin even though he'd never seen it before, and he knew he shouldn't do it or try it since he'd just came out of drug rehab.

_Cocaine wasn't so physically addicting but Craig craved it in rehab, craved something. Sighed when they brought his Lithium. He'd liked going without it, liked feeling the manic rush again._

He wasn't afraid of the needle, sort of liked the sharp pinch as the guy slammed the shot into his arm. Made him think of Ellie and all the scars on her arms. It didn't even take a second for Craig to feel it, this dreamy feeling like a slow orgasm. Damn. He felt better now.

"It's nice, huh?" The guy said to him and Craig could barely speak.

_They just didn't get it, things were tough for everybody but it had always felt worse for him. He needed things. He needed it. Ellie stared at him with that righteous look, that hurt and wounded look and he knew somehow that he had caused that. But he wasn't sure how or why she wouldn't leave him alone._

He wouldn't play the guitar or write songs. Fuck it. That dream was dead. Maybe he could become a heroin addict instead. He could become as skinny as a skeleton and maybe overdose and die. Great. That was a good plan.

He pretty well knew the steps, it would be the same as cocaine. First he'd start buying it instead of just doing it when it was "there". Then he'd start shooting it up himself and then he'd need more and more and then….rehab or death he supposed.

_His father, always, this pissed off look and why? He was late or he'd done something he said not to do. By 13 Craig had stopped trying to figure it out. He didn't get it. And he'd just close his eyes while his father hit him. This close he couldn't get away. He'd missed his chance to run._


	2. Chapter 2

She shook her head, her long curls still feeling weird to her. She missed her spiky short hair, her spiky persona. Ashley tried to avoid Jimmy throughout the day, she'd duck down another hall or into a classroom if she saw him coming. It had never worked with him, not really. Not even when they were in eighth grade and he was a little clingy. Not even now. Why did she keep thinking he had what she needed?

"Hey, Ash," Spinner. She marveled at his new clean cut look, his new maturity. They were still here at Degrassi, but going to England had been worth it.

"Hi, Spin," He held Craig's CD, flipping it back and forth so she saw the picture of him from 11th grade and the list of songs in rapid succession.

"I heard this CD isn't doing so well," he said, and she frowned. She had heard it, too, and she didn't want to be glad. She didn't want to be that type of person.

Moving on, a smile and a nod, no comment. She went down the hall, toward a classroom that felt like it had nothing to do with her. Not anymore.

After school, grabbing a coffee with Toby. She had to smile, thinking of how she'd hated him like the little brother she had never had when he first moved in.

"So how are you doing?" she said, sipping her coffee with the sugar encrusted around the rim, thinking about J.T.

"Okay, you know. Better. I'm actually doing a little better,"

"Good,"

"How about you?"

She paused mid sip to think about it. She was okay without Jimmy. She always had been. It wasn't Jimmy who was making her feel blue.

"Good, I guess. Yeah, I'm okay,"

Leaving that place, watching Toby head off. Wishing this year could just slip by. She wasn't where she should be, somehow. She missed Ellie, she even missed Paige. But most of all, most disturbingly of all, she missed Craig. Missed seeing him in the hallways and the classrooms, his jeans all torn around his sneakers from dragging on the ground, the rock t-shirts he wore, his messy/curly hair. Dark hazel eyes.

Having some pasta and wine over at Ellie's and Marco's, and Marco's new haircut kind of made him look like a cute little bird. Ellie was all put together looking, her hair falling in a glamorous cascade over one shoulder, her clothes so tamed. It was the same with her, she realized. It made her feel sad and she drank some wine.

Going home late, thinking of Jimmy, wishing he wasn't angry toward her, or bitter, because she wasn't toward him. Not at all. Thinking of Craig again, and of how things had blown up in their faces again. She had his CD in her bag and when she got home she pulled it out, unwrapped the cellophane wrapping, ran her finger over the picture of him on the cover. She remembered the day that photo was taken, it was when they did that interview with Liberty. Before the bipolar mess, before her dad's wedding and England and all of it.

"Hi, Ashley, can I come in?" Her mom stood in her doorway, arms folded across her skinny body. Ashley noticed the lines around her mouth and eyes.

"Sure, mom," She stepped in, into the inner sanctum, her hiding place from the world. Her room, filled with her colors and things she liked, her own space.

Her mom smiled at her, picked up one curly tendril of hair and dropped it softly.

"I'm glad you're back," she said, and Ashley smiled at her.

"Me, too,"

Then, the door closing softly, she was alone. No Jimmy to worry about, no accosting with news of Craig. People at Degrassi liked to do that, like to tell her any little news about him because she had dated him so publicly before she left. She didn't want to hear about rehab and coke and his CD not doing well and tours and, and any of it. It kind of hurt to hear about him.

She put his CD in her radio, dimmed the lights, and listened to the first strains of the guitar. That way he played it, she could close her eyes and see him, she knew that way of playing so well. His voice, that scratchy plaintive singing, that way of being nakedly honest in his songs. His release. She got it. She listened, understanding a little more of things she thought she had understood so well, his life in these verses making her ache for him. Silly and useless thoughts. He was gone, and so was she.


	3. Chapter 3

A meeting. With Leo in his office. Craig felt like he used to feel when he was called to the principal's office for skipping class or for fighting. He was in trouble, his stomach in knots, and deeper than those principal memories were the memories of his dad and getting in trouble with him. Craig took a deep breath and walked in.

Everything about Leo annoyed him lately, the hipster little choker necklace he wore, the beard stubble that was so early eighties, the open collar shirts, the lines around his eyes.

"Craig," he said, his smile kind of sad. It made Craig nervous, nervouser.

"Yeah?" Looking down, playing with the stupid Spencer's knick knacks on his stupid desk, looking at the sunlight filter through the blinds.

"Look, kid, it just isn't working out. We've got to let you go,"

The air left, the oxygen less room. Things were muffled, and the thought of being a failure kind of crowded all the other thoughts out of his head. He was hanging by a thread, he had known. He just hadn't known the pain that waited for him when that thread was cut.

"Okay, whatever," He turned and left fast, and he heard Leo talking to him but he didn't care. He didn't care at all. That guy could go screw.

What now? Killing the pain? He was so tired of trying to stuff down all the pain, from everything, for years. But he had to. He had to. He couldn't just sit and live with it, really feel it, he couldn't do that.

The bar was typical, if a little fancy. Hanging lights with pale green shades, making everything seem a bit muted, a bit elegant. Nice little wood tables. Oak maybe, and polished to a high gloss. He could see his reflection in the wood, darker reflection. He ordered a martini, because it tasted bitter and it hit him hard. He'd sip it, though. He promised himself he would. He wanted to dull the pain, not end up puking and hung over.

He ordered it with Bombay Sapphire gin because that was the top shelf gin his dad always drank, and like it or not that sadistic snob was a part of him. And it tasted better. Sometimes his dad was right about some things. Craig stared at the bloated green olive at the bottom of his glass, skewered by the toothpick. Stared at the white/clear liquid of the gin and vermouth, how they were the same color but didn't seem to mix, like he could see the difference, and it shimmered under the pale green lights in this place, and he sipped it and immediately started to feel better.

Just sipping this drink, because it was a dangerous one. But he fully planned on ordering another one after this one and sipping that. Because fuck Leo. Because who was Leo to judge what he was worth? Hadn't people been doing that to him his whole life? What gave them that authority over him? Little sips, and the alcohol was cold and felt good going down his throat. He could see the red palmento in the olive, this little square stuck in the end of it.

The drink was getting low, and Craig looked around worriedly for his waitress. He needed another one. Took the olive out by the toothpick, and the toothpick was wet under his fingers. He ate it, and it tasted like a martini and like a green olive, and then he saw her. His waitress came over, a little pencil tucked behind her ear, the white apron tied around her black skirt, her eyes a funny gold and her hair ash blond. He could tell that if he asked her to go somewhere with him she'd go, and he smiled a slow sexy smile at her. Maybe he would. Maybe he'd ask. But right now he needed to order another drink.

She nodded, wrote it down, turned and walked to the bar. Craig eyed his empty glass that she didn't take with her, and it only had a sip left. He did feel better. Alcohol always made things not seem to matter. Leo was receding down a hallway of nothingness. It was just random anyway, just a long shot at fame and fortune. Was that what he wanted, even? Looking down, fingering the edge of the table, it felt smooth and sticky under his fingertips. He'd wanted it. Of course he had.

She came back with his new drink, and there it was again. The shimmery martini, the new green olive floating at the bottom, absorbing the alcohol. He sipped it, and before she left the table he spoke to her.

"Hey, what are you doing later?"

She smiled, looked down, and he saw the blush starting to spread on her cheeks. So he hadn't been wrong.

"Nothing,"

"Want to go somewhere?"

She agreed, and they arranged it, he'd meet her after work. He smiled his charming smile at her but felt guilty. She didn't matter to him, and she wouldn't matter. He was planning on using her to dull his feelings as much as he used these drinks.

It was part of why he felt so judged, why so much hinged on what other people thought. He did stuff like this even though he knew he shouldn't. Sipped his drink, and the second one made even those guilt thoughts recede down the hallway.

There she was at closing time, waiting for him outside the door. He wasn't drunk but very close, and he tried hard not to sway when he walked. He found out that her name was Rebecca, and he kissed her before they'd even said a whole paragraph to each other.

They had gone to her little apartment that was barely more than a kitchen and a living room, and in the morning, naked under her sheets, he watched her sit on the edge of the bed and smoke a cigarette. He thought about Ashley and how he missed her, thought about the fact that he'd have to go back to somewhere. To Joey, probably. There was nowhere else to go. He watched Rebecca finish her cigarette and smash it against the glass ashtray, watched her turn toward him and smile. He knew in that smile that he'd never see her again.


	4. Chapter 4

She missed Craig. She knew that this was true. Going to school, feeling the cool breeze through her hair. The blue sky spreading away and into the distance, she missed him. She'd listened to the CD and she knew it wasn't doing so well. But she liked it. She got it.

In the school, in the hallway, the sun falling through the windows and hitting the linoleum like it always did, she saw Jimmy glide by and barely glance at her. It was okay. It had to be. And she had that feeling that she didn't belong here, this wasn't her place anymore.

And she saw Spinner again, his slow dazed smile the same.

"Craig got dropped from the label," he said, and she didn't sense any judgment in Spinner's tone, just the simple imparting of information.

"He did?" she said, thinking of what that rejection would do to him and worrying. The deep line appeared between her eyes.

"Yeah. I bet he'll move back in with Joey," Spinner said as he took off. Ashley watched him go down the hall and turn the corner. Move in with Joey. But Joey lived in Calgary.

She wanted to go to him, tell him not to give up. Not to let a little setback become something final. But the truth was she didn't even know where he was, didn't know how to find him. He was lost to her. And she was still here, in this high school she had left behind a year ago. She shook her head, craving a coffee and those little clove cigarettes she'd gotten hooked on in England.

The day was a slow one, just humming by, the seconds ticking evenly away. Ashley went from class to class, from destination to destination, but all day long she thought of Craig. She knew the sullen, angry look he'd get. Knew the flashes of anger that he struggled to control. Knew he was probably losing it right now.

Funny thing was she wasn't all that happy with his success, either. She hadn't exactly envied him but it was close. But his failure didn't please her, either. And when the slow endless day was done she headed for the pleasure of a cup of coffee, just something to make her feel a little more alive. Sipped it slow and watched the people walk by the window of the coffee shop. What was she doing at Degrassi? She was beyond that now. What was she doing with her own creative life? Maybe Craig had failed but at least he had tried, and it was more than she could say for herself.

Most of all she wished he was here, in her vicinity, in her orbit. Wished she could pick the dry leaves out of his hair and hold his hand and look into his eyes.

She saw Toby head for the glass door and she waved to him. He was a little directionless without J.T. and she felt bad for him. Marveled at the new maturity in the lines of his face and his eyes. He got his coffee and sat with her, smiling a sad smile before he took his first sip.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, and she smiled back, a smile that touched her eyes. She found herself spilling her secret thoughts to him, found that he was the only one she could talk to.

"It's Craig," she said, and filled him in on the record deal gone sour, and he listened with his calm, interested manner. She fell into that manner gratefully.

"Sounds like you should try and find him," he said.

"Yeah, but how?" She took the last cold sip from her cup.

"Just call Joey. I'm sure Joey knows where he is,"


End file.
